


A love that will never grow old

by Ailendolin



Series: Hearts and Souls [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Albert and Crutchie are soulfriends, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canon Era, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heartbreak, Hurt Albert, Hurt Crutchie, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Oblivious Jack, Oblivous Race, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Swearing, albert has low self-esteem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-04 06:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17299292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailendolin/pseuds/Ailendolin
Summary: From the moment he was born Albert DaSilva was special. He had a name written over his heart – fourteen perfect letters, small, ink-black and standing out against the freckles of his skin like a promise. When he was old enough to understand, his mother sat him down and told him with a smile, “That’s a heartmark, my dear. It means there’s a boy out there you will love with everything you’ve got." She paused. "He holds your heart.”Soulmate AU in which Race is Albert's soulmate but Albert isn't Race's.





	1. Albert

**Author's Note:**

> New year, new story! This time a soulmate AU. It will be three chapters long and I'm thinking of turning this into a series because I already have ideas for at least one sequel. So let me know what you think!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. Disney does. I'm just borrowing their characters and don't make any money with this.

**A love that will never grow old**

**Chapter 1: Albert**

From the moment he was born Albert DaSilva was special. He had a name written over his heart – fourteen perfect letters, small, ink-black and standing out against the freckles of his skin like a promise. When he was old enough to read, to question, to understand, his mother sat him down and told him with a smile, “That’s a heartmark, my dear. It means there’s a boy out there you will love with everything you’ve got.” She paused. “He holds your heart.”

“Like you hold Papa’s?” Albert asked, eyes falling to his father’s name above his mother’s collarbone.

His mother shook her head. “It’s not quite the same. I wasn’t born with your Papa’s name, Albert. It only appeared after I met him.”

Albert scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Why?”

His mother chuckled. “No one quite knows why. Most people are like me – their marks only appear when they meet a person that would be good for them. Our marks can disappear or change. Yours is different, Albert. It’s special because there’s one person out there who is not only good for you, but absolutely perfect. Your skin will never show another name.”

“It will always say Antonio?” Albert asked, pulling down the collar of his shirt to squint at the letters on his chest.

He felt his mother press a gentle kiss against his temple. “Yes, and you will love him for the rest of your life.”

His mother had been right about that. The moment Albert met Antonio – who liked to be called Race and had the bluest eyes Albert had ever seen – it felt like something shifted into place, like he found a piece of himself he hadn’t even realized he was missing. Having Race smile at him was like balm on his soul after weeks of pain and loss and grief. Albert missed his mother fiercely and felt her loss every ay but finding Race after years of looking for him eased a little of the sadness he’d been carrying around with him for days and made him feel at peace for the first time since his mother got sick. Because Race – Race was _everything_. He was funny and charming and cheeky and so affectionate that Albert couldn’t help but wonder what he did to deserve some like him in his life. He was Albert’s lifeline after his mother passed away, his one ray of hope when his family broke apart and became strangers to each other without her there to hold them all together. Race always managed to find a way to cheer Albert up, be it with a stupid made-up headline, a funny face or a comforting hug. He became the best friend Albert ever had, the most important person in his life and Albert knew he would do anything for Race if Race just asked.

It came as a bitter realization when he found out that Race didn’t feel the same way about him.

Albert didn’t know why he’d assumed that Race would have a heartmark like he had. Maybe it was because his mother had always talked about how Albert was destined to be with his _heartmate_ as she used to call Race, how lucky he was to have someone who was entirely perfect for him. But Albert didn’t feel lucky when he caught sight of the empty skin on Race’s chest for the first time on a beautiful hot summer day. He didn’t feel lucky when the first name appeared on Race’s arm when they were fifteen and it wasn’t his. He felt like his heart was breaking into a million tiny pieces that all belonged to Race who didn’t even know he held them in his hands.

After that Albert tried to be patient. He knew that ordinary soulmarks could change just like people did. Almost everyone who didn’t have a heartmark went through life with more than one name on their skin. Race was no exception. His first name changed into another after a few months when the relationship fell apart. When Race couldn’t find the person the second name belonged to it simply faded away into nothingness only to be replaced by _Spot Conlon_ in beautiful lettering after the strike.

That was the moment Albert realized fairytale endings didn’t exist and Race would never bear his name.

There’d always been a spark between Race and Spot whenever they encountered each other. Albert had seen the way they’d seized each other up, how they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other when they were in the same room. He should have seen it coming, should have prepared himself for it, but when Spot’s name finally appeared on Race’s forearm he was still blindsided by Race’s big, over-the-top announcement.  

“I’m going to marry the King of Brooklyn!” he declared loudly, face bright with excitement and happiness as he proudly presented his soulmark for all to see.

Jack rolled his eyes. “That’s what you said about the other two guys – one of whom you never ended up dating, remember?”

Race childishly stuck out his tongue at him. “This time I’m sure. I mean, it’s Spot Conlon! It doesn’t get any better than that.”

By this point Albert couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to leave the room, fighting back tears of heartbreak and utter devastation he didn’t want anyone to see – because Race might be perfect for Albert but no matter what Albert did he wasn’t perfect for Race. Spot’s name on Race’s skin was proof of that. How was Albert supposed to stand a chance against someone like Spot? He wasn’t confident like he was. He wasn’t a naturally-born leader. And he certainly wasn’t as handsome or as clever.

In that moment Albert knew he would never be good enough for Race. He’d never get the happy ending his mother had always talked about, and realizing that hurt more than any soaking he’d ever gotten. His heartmark burned as if Race was reaching right into his chest and tried to tear his heart out. Albert curled into a small ball on his bed, digging his nails almost viciously into the letters on his skin to counter the pain. His other hand was pressed firmly against his mouth in a futile attempt to stifle his sobs as he cried for everything he never really had and still lost.

The door to the bunkroom opened with a slight creak and a tentative voice asked quietly, “Albert?”

“Go away,” Albert forced out between his sobs. He wasn’t ready to put on a smile for the rest of the world, not yet.

The sound of a crutch hitting the wooden floor came closer and a moment later Albert felt the mattress dip next to him. Of course Crutchie wouldn’t leave him alone. He tried to curl up tighter, to hide as much as he could, but Crutchie didn’t let that deter him. He gently pried Albert’s hands away from his chest. When he saw the bleeding name he let out a sad little sigh. “Oh, Albert.”

Somehow those two simple words made him sob harder and Albert buried his head in his hands, trying his hardest not to fall apart completely. “I don’t want this anymore,” he choked out, gasping for breath. There was no use hiding anymore. “I don’t want to have his name.”

“You don’t mean that,” Crutchie told him softly.

“Of course I mean that!” Albert burst out, looking up at him for the first time. He wrapped his arms around his chest defensively, beyond caring about the tears that kept falling. “My mother was wrong! I’m not special, I’m _cursed_.”

Crutchie shook his head. “You’re not cursed, Albert.”

“How would you know?” Albert spat angrily. “You have no idea how I feel right now!”

Crutchie gave him a sad smile before he carefully moved his shirt collars out of the way to reveal a name in the exact same spot Albert bore Race’s. “I _know_ , Albert. Believe me, I know. I’ve been in love with Jack – or the idea of him – since I learned what heartmarks are,” Crutchie admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh,” Albert breathed in shock. He couldn’t stop staring at Jack’s name over Crutchie’s heart. “I’ve never met someone like me,” he whispered.

“Me neither,” Crutchie said, hiding his heartmark under layers of cloth once more. “It’s not exactly something you shout from the rooftops, is it?”

“Not when it’s unrequited, you don’t,” Albert murmured, drying his face on his shirtsleeve.

The corner of Crutchie’s mouth twitched in a cheerless attempt at a smile. “Exactly.”

They were both quiet for a moment. Albert sniffed and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes in an effort to get his emotions back under control. “Does Jack know?”

Crutchie scoffed. “Of course not. It wouldn’t change anything, not really. He’d only feel guilty and walk on eggshells around me. I don’t want that. He can’t help how he feels anymore than I can.”

Albert thought back to all the names Jack had on his skin over the years and the pain Crutchie must have suffered silently because of them. Jack’s names always faded quickly, being replaced with a new one not soon after until finally Katherine came along and stayed – as did her name. The letters were still as dark and clear on the inside of Jack’s wrist as they had been the day they appeared. The only thing that changed was her surname, from Plumber to Pulitzer, when Jack learned who her father was. It was common for soulmarks to change, to adapt when you got closer to your soulmate. A proper name sometimes changed into a nickname. Other times, the surname simply vanished or changed after marriage.   

When Albert’s mother had explained heartmarks to him she’d talked about how those names were steadfast – they never changed, never faded, never disappeared. But Albert knew that wasn’t completely true. His heartmark didn’t say Antonio Higgins anymore. After meeting Race it first changed to Racetrack Higgins, then to Race and finally to Tonio when they became best friends. Only Albert was allowed to call him that and he treasured that privilege.

Another thing he’d learned from personal experience was that heartmarks could scar. He saw the proof of that every day when he looked at Race’s name on his chest and he’d caught a glimpse of it on Crutchie’s just a minute ago. When your heartmate broke your heart, he or she actually _broke your heart_. It physically hurt, it bled, it burned and there was nothing you could do until the worst of the pain passed and the open wounds would scab over and finally scar. He could feel Race’s name bleed right now, slowly turning a small area of his shirt pinkish red. He wondered if it would ever stop.

“Did you ever ask yourself why you aren’t good enough for him?” Albert said into the silence without meeting Crutchie’s eyes.

“Every day,” Crutchie answered, painfully honest. “I keep telling myself that I’m lucky to be his best friend, to have him in my life at all, but ....”

“But it’s not enough,” Albert concluded with a sigh. He finally looked up. “How can you think this is not a curse when you’re stuck loving someone so much it literally hurts?”

Crutchie’s gaze fell to the door behind which their friends could be heard laughing. “Because I’d rather love him from afar than not at all. I can’t even begin to imagine spending my life with anyone else.”

“Even if he leaves you behind one day?” Albert asked.

Crutchie nodded solemnly. “Even then.”

And the thing was, Albert got it. No matter how much he’d like to claw Race’s name from his chest sometimes when he felt like screaming because it hurt so much to have him close but not close enough, the idea of not loving Race was simply incomprehensible. And as much as he wanted to blame the heartmark for it Albert knew the five letters on his chest were not the reason he felt that way. They were just a physical manifestation of something that had always been there. He would love Race with all his heart whether or not he bore his name on his skin. All the heartmark did was telling him that there was no one else for him out there. It was Race or no one at all – and that’s what made it hurt so much. Albert didn’t want to be alone for the rest of his life. He wanted to know what it’s like to kiss someone, to be held and cherished and loved in every way imaginable. He wanted to share his life with someone who loved him back. But there was only one person who could give him that – and he had someone else’s name on his skin.

Albert hoped Spot knew how lucky he was.

“I wish I had your name instead,” he told Crutchie half-jokingly, an idea born out of desperation. 

Crutchie actually laughed at that. “No, you don’t.”

Albert cracked a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right. But it would make things a little easier if we were each other’s soulmates, wouldn’t it?”

“A lot less lonely, too,” Crutchie agreed. He hesitated before he went on. “I know it’s terribly selfish of me but I’m kind of glad I can finally talk to someone about all this. The others wouldn’t understand.”

“Me, too,” Albert admitted. “You know, we might not be soulmates but maybe we could be soulfriends?” When Crutchie only stared at him with those big impressive eyes of his that would still never hold a candle to Race’s Albert hunched in on himself. “Sorry, that was a stupid idea.”

Crutchie shook his head. “No! No, it’s a brilliant idea, actually! You just surprised me, is all. I’d love to be your soulfriend, Albert.” Without hesitation Crutchie spit into his right hand and held it out with a crooked grin on his face for Albert to shake. Albert grinned back and spit into his own hand.

“Soulfriends forever,” he said.

“Soulfriends forever,” Crutchie vowed. 

Having Crutchie by his side, in his corner, didn’t make the pain magically disappear. It didn’t make Albert love Race any less and it didn’t make the situation any more hopeful than it had been before. But it made life a little less lonely and isolating. It gave him someone who understood, who was in the same boat as he was and who was willing to listen when life got too hard.

With Crutchie having his back Albert felt ready to face another day, another week, another month, another year of loving Race from a distance and seeing him with someone else. With Crutchie next to him he managed not to fall apart – until Race ditched him on their friendship anniversary for Spot and not even Crutchie was enough to keep Albert’s world from crashing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and the soulmate/heartmate stuff wasn't too confusing! Two more chapters to go. They're already written and just need to be edited, so expect the next chapter sometime in the next few days. Let me know what you liked, what you didn't, what you think will happen, what you'd like to see. Basically, I'd love to talk to someone about Newsies :)


	2. Crutchie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: alcohol abuse, swearing

**Chapter 2: Crutchie**

Crutchie knew something was terribly wrong the moment Albert staggered into the bunkroom of the Lodging House with a bottle of booze in his hand, swaying unsteadily on his feet and looking unbelievably heartbroken beneath the angry scowl he tried to hide his emotions behind. It’s been seven months since they became soulfriends – months in which they shared their pain, tears, frustrations and longing with each other, when loving someone who would never love them back became too much to bear alone. Crutchie thought he’d already seen Albert at his lowest when Race spent the first night over in Brooklyn but that had been nothing compared to how he was now.

“Albert?” Crutchie asked cautiously, glad the others were still at Jacobi’s and they had the Lodging House to themselves for the moment. “Are you all right?”

“Do I look like I’m all right?” Albert spat, his words slurring together slightly. 

Crutchie didn’t take the bait. “What happened?” he asked instead.

“Race didn’t show up, that’s what happened,” Albert told him. Angry tears welled in his eyes and he took another swig of the bottle before he harshly wiped them away.

Crutchie winced in sympathy. He knew how special today was for Albert. It was the anniversary of the day he became a newsie and met Race for the first time. Ever since then Race had insisted that the two of them celebrate their _friendshipversary_ as he called it every year, and even though Albert had found the whole thing a little ridiculous in the beginning Crutchie knew he’d grown fond of it over time, especially after Race got his first soulmark and it didn’t spell Albert’s name. He’d spent countless hours listening to Albert talk about how much he was looking forward to spending a whole evening with Race, just the two of them in their favorite park with something nice to eat. Albert had been putting money aside for weeks for this occasion. Crutchie understood his excitement all too well because he felt the same whenever Jack didn’t go to Katherine’s for the evening and they slept side by side on the rooftop just like they used to. Those moments, few and far in-between as they were now, were special and he treasured them like a pirate treasured his gold.

Albert’s moments with Race were even rarer because lately Race had been spending more and more time over in Brooklyn. Some days Albert only saw him in the mornings at the circulation gate when they were buying their papers because Race either spent the night with Spot or came home very late, sneaking in when everyone was already asleep. Only Crutchie was aware of how much that hurt Albert. He’d often enough given his friends a shoulder to cry on when the loneliness and longing became too much to hold in.

But Albert had never been as bad off as he was now. Albert didn’t drink. At all. Normally, he wouldn’t touch alcohol with a ten-foot-pole. He’d once told Crutchie that it was because his father was a drunk and Albert was terrified of becoming just like him. Seeing Albert of all people now with a bottle of booze in his hand trying to drink away his pain because he didn’t know how else to deal with it all anymore made something in Crutchie’s chest tighten painfully.

“I’m sorry Race wasn’t there,” he said honestly even though he knew the words wouldn’t do much to comfort his friend. Nothing he could say would make this alright. It was the bitter truth of their lives.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry, too,” Albert sniffed, once more raising the bottle to his lips.

Crutchie watched in worry as he took gulp after gulp. “Why don’t you give me the bottle, hm? Just for a bit.”

The glare Albert shot him reminded Crutchie of a cornered animal, wounded but still prepared to fight. “And why would I do that?”

“Because this isn’t you, Albert,” Crutchie told him softly.

Albert let out a laugh, a cruel, self-deprecating and unhappy sound. “Maybe it should be,” he said. “Maybe my dad had the right idea all along.”

Crutchie felt the color drain from his face. “Don’t say that!” he hissed. He reached for the bottle but wasn’t fast enough. “Give me that bottle, Albert. Now!”

“Don’t you get it?” Albert asked, taking another swig before wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I need this, Crutchie. I … I need it.”

Crutchie’s heart broke into a million pieces and for once it wasn’t because of Jack. He blinked hard against his tears and slowly reached out to place a gentle hand on Albert’s arm. “This isn’t you,” he whispered again. “Please, Albert. Give me the bottle. We’ll get through this together, I promise. Soulfriends forever, remember?” He held Albert’s gaze and for a moment it looked like Albert wanted to give in but then the door to the bunkroom burst open and Race rushed inside. Immediately Albert tensed up and Crutchie knew his window of opportunity had just closed. Albert’s grip on the bottle tightened and he turned away, taking another gulp.

“There you are!” Race said, looking relieved when his eyes landed on Albert in the dimly lit room. “I was looking all over for you and – are you _drinking_?”

Albert gave him a defiant look over his shoulder and took a swig. “What’s it to you, huh?”

Race seemed completely taken aback. His worried eyes met Crutchie’s who just shrugged and held up his hands in a gesture that said, ‘Don’t look at me.’ This was Race’s mess and he could figure it out on his own as far as Crutchie was concerned. Bewildered, Race turned back to Albert. “Al? What’s going on?”

“You actually have no idea, do you?” Albert mumbled disbelievingly. He gave a derisive snort. “Must be nice to live in blissful ignorance all the time.”

Race frowned at him. “I honestly don’t understand,” he said rather helplessly. Crutchie almost pitied him.

“You never do!” Albert exclaimed, turning around and pointing a shaking finger in Race’s general direction. “We were supposed to meet at four, Race, _four_ , because guess what? It’s our friendshipversary today. Remember that? That one day a year we always spent together, treat ourselves to some nice food and have a good time because you thought it would be a fun thing to do?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag filled with chocolate and threw it at Race’s chest with surprisingly good aim. “I waited like an idiot for you until seven in the freezing cold but guess who didn’t show? You, asshole!”

Albert took another vicious gulp and Crutchie really hoped there wasn’t too much left. There was no way he could pry the bottle out of Albert’s hands now, not when he was this agitated. And Race wasn’t really helping matters when he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice, “I did show!”

“Four hours late!” Albert hissed.

“And I’m sorry for that!” Race said though he looked more angry than apologetic. “Spot told me this morning his grandma was in town today and she wanted to meet me, okay?”

Albert stared at him in utter disbelief. “And of course it had to be today of all days. What a coincidence.”

“Yes, it had to be today,” Race ground out. “She’s just passing through and her next train is leaving tonight. I figured I’d go over to Brooklyn for an hour, say hello to her, and hightail it back here to meet you.” He suddenly deflated a little, looking guilty at last. “But she was fun, like real fun, and she insisted on treating us to a nice meal and I … I lost track of time. I’m really sorry, Albert.”

Crutchie really wished Race wouldn’t rub in the fact that he’d a great time without Albert so much because Albert looked close to tears again and so incredibly hurt that Crutchie began to seriously consider punching Race just to shut him up.

“I’m glad at least one of us had a good time today,” Albert said, voice shaking with barely suppressed emotions. “I stand by what I said earlier. You’re an asshole, Antonio Higgins.”

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say. Before Crutchie could blink Race was right up in Albert’s face, radiating anger and frustration. “I’m an asshole? What about you, huh? I would have asked you to come along but whenever I want you to spend time with me and Spot you find one excuse or another why you can’t. I know you don’t like Spot and that’s fine, you don’t have to like him, but would it kill you to pretend for just an hour or two that you’re happy for us? For me? Would it, Albert?”

“You have no idea,” Albert whispered, his voice dangerously low.

“Well, neither have you!” Race shouted. “I won’t apologize again for wanting to spend time with my soulmate. You have no idea what it’s like, how everything is perfect when you’re with them and absolutely rotten when you’re not. Being with Spot is like coming home and you can’t possibly know how that feels!”

“How could I? I never see you anymore!” Albert shouted right back.

They stared at each other with wide eyes, chests heaving and Crutchie could pinpoint the exact moment when Albert realized what he’d just said. All the fight and anger left him, leaving behind a trembling shell of a broken boy. He took an unsteady step backwards, away from Race, and the bottle clattered to the ground with a sad little sound, forgotten. “Oh god,” he whispered, sounding absolutely stricken.

Race didn’t fare any better. He looked like his whole world had just turned upside down. All the color drained from his face and he stared at Albert with his mouth hanging open in shock. “What … what do you mean?” he finally asked, voice small and unsure und so unlike Race. “Albert?”

Crutchie knew Race wasn’t stupid. Race was well aware of the fact that Albert didn’t have a soulmark. Just like Jack he’d just always assumed Albert (or Crutchie, for that matter) hadn’t met the right one yet and neither Albert nor Crutchie had felt the need to set things straight. Since heartmarks were so rare it had simply never crossed Race’s mind that Albert could bear one, that that was the reason why he always changed when no one was around. But now the truth was practically staring him right in the face – and it hurt and it changed things. Crutchie could already see the first beginnings of guilt in Race’s eyes beneath the shock and denial. He knew Albert could see it, too, because his face fell and he shrunk away from Race with a look of pure heartbreak before he whispered, “I’m sorry.” He whirled around, stumbling towards the fire escape.

Race made to follow him but Crutchie was quick enough to hold him back. When Race asked him to let him go, desperate to reach Albert, Crutchie shook his head and said, “You both need a moment to calm down.”

“I don’t need to calm down!” Race shouted, trying to pull his arm away from Crutchie. “I need to see my best friend. I need to make this right!”

Crutchie’s grip tightened and he tugged at Race, forcing him to look at him instead of the window Albert had fled through. “You _can’t_ make this right, Race,” he said bluntly. “Whatever you think of saying to him I promise you it won’t help. Not as long as that name on your arm says Spot Conlon.”

For a moment Race looked like he wanted to deny it but then it hit him that Crutchie was right. He slumped down onto Albert’s bed, the fight leaving him completely. A little self-consciously he rubbed at his soulmark. “I never knew Albert had a heartmark,” he whispered, still sounding shocked and staring at the wall with unfocused eyes. “I had no idea I was his soulmate.”

“Heartmate,” Crutchie corrected gently before he sat down next to him. When Race looked at him he added, “That’s what Albert’s mother used to call you: his heartmate.”

“Heartmate,” Race breathed. One corner of his mouth twitched with the beginnings of a sad smile as he tried out the word. “I like that.” His gaze returned to the window and he bit his lip. “I really screwed that up for him, didn’t I?”

Crutchie sighed. “That’s not your fault, Race, so don’t go start blaming yourself, alright? That’s not going to help either you or Albert.”

Race didn’t seem to have heard him because he dropped his head into his hands and moaned, “God, he was right. I really am an asshole. All those times I couldn’t shut up about how wonderful it is to have a soulmate, how amazing Spot is, how lucky I am to have him in my life – he had to listen to all of that! I _made_ him listen to all of that! No wonder he never looked happy for us.”

“You didn’t know, Race,” Crutchie tried to console him.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Race asked, looking up and meeting his eyes, desperate to understand why Albert hadn’t confided in him. “If I’d known I … I wouldn’t have talked so much about Spot. I wouldn’t have asked Albert to spend time with us. Do you know how often I invited him to come along? God, that must have hurt.”

Crutchie nodded. “It did.” When Race gave him a look he shrugged. “What? You want to know the truth or not? There is no nice way to say this, Race. You broke his heart – again and again and again. And you would have still done it even if he’d told you about his heartmark because you can’t change who you are. It’s not your fault Albert’s not your soulmate. You can’t help who you love. And Albert … he knows that. And because he knows that he was prepared to be your best friend for the rest of your lives. He didn’t want to pressure you into anything, or make you doubt everything the two of you share. He was scared of losing what little he has of you. He still is.”

Race mulled that over quietly before he gave Crutchie a sad, thoughtful look. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

“I am,” Crutchie said without elaborating further.

“Jack?” Race asked after a moment. When Crutchie nodded he said, “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” Crutchie said. “But this isn’t about Jack and me. You need to figure out what _you_ want to do now.”

Race frowned at him. “What I want to do now?”

“About Albert,” Crutchie explained.

Once more Race’s eyes were drawn to the window. “I don’t know,” he said helplessly. “It’s like you said: I … I can’t be what he needs. I can’t change even if I wanted to. But I don’t want to hurt him, either!”  He raked his fingers through his curls in frustration. “All I know is that I can’t lose him. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s my best friend, Crutchie.”

Crutchie smiled, happy to hear that. “And you’re his,” he reassured Race. “That’s what you got to remember when you head up to the rooftop. Don’t treat him any differently because of this. Don’t apologize for loving someone else. Just … be his friend. Be there for him. Show him that he’s still got you. That’s what Albert needs the most right now.”

“And after that?” Race asked in a small voice.

Putting a reassuring hand on Race’s shoulder Crutchie said, “After that you figure out a way to be happy with Spot without feeling guilty about it.” He paused. “You could try spending a bit more time with Albert, too,” he added with a smile, nudging Race’s shoulder to show that he didn’t mean it in an admonishing way.

Race still looked guilty. “I really haven’t been around much lately, have I?”

Crutchie shook his head. “No, but that’s something that can be fixed.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Race sighed.

“We both know it won’t be,” Crutchie said. “I think Albert’s worth the effort, though. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He grinned at Race and was happy to find Race smiling back at him. “Yeah, he is.”

“Good,” Crutchie said, standing up. He adjusted his crutch underneath his arm before he held out his hand for Race to take. “Now up with you. Someone needs to make sure Albert doesn’t fall off the roof and Jack will kill me if I try to climb the ladder on my own in the dark.”

He was surprised when Race pulled him into a quick hug. “Thanks, Crutchie. You’re a real good friend.”

“Anytime, Race,” Crutchie promised. “And I mean that. I know this is a lot to take in, and a lot to deal with. I’m here for you if you ever need someone to talk to.”

He watched Race climb out of the window with a faint smile on his face. Crutchie really hoped he would step up to the task and ease at least a little of the heartbreak he had caused involuntarily.  Albert didn’t deserve to lose his best friend over this and even though Race seemed willing to fight for their friendship in the end only time would tell if they’d be able to work it out. Crutchie would keep his fingers crossed for them.

Behind him the door opened and loud voices filled the room with life. He smiled, unable to help it, when he heard Jack laugh with Specs about one thing or another. Not for the first time he thought Jack’s happiness was the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Hey, Crutchie, everything all right?” Jack asked when he spotted him, eyes still dancing with mirth.

The concern in his voice made Crutchie feel warm all over. “Everything’s fine, Jack. Just a little tired.”

“Come on, then, I’ll help you to the roof,” Jack said, already moving to the window. “It’s late, anyway.”

“Actually, I was wondering if we could sleep inside tonight?” Crutchie asked with the intention of giving Race and Albert some much-needed privacy. “I’m still freezing from selling.”

At once Jack went into mothering mode. He pushed Crutchie towards one of the bunks and gathered as many blankets as he could find. Crutchie watched in amusement as Jack piled them on top of him before stripping off his outer shirt and getting into bed with him. “Feel any warmer yet?” he whispered into Crutchie’s ear.

Crutchie laughed quietly. “Yeah, Jack. Definitely.”

He closed his eyes, the feeling of Jack’s arms around him warming him more than all the blankets in the world could. Maybe one day he would tell Jack about that. Maybe one day he wouldn’t be too scared to lose what he’s got and tell Jack the truth. Maybe things would work out between Race and Albert and it would give Crutchie the push he needed to talk to Jack about the heartmark his hand was unknowingly resting over right now. Maybe he’d even get something like a happy ending.

For now, though, Crutchie tried to enjoy what he already had for as long as he could instead of dreaming about a future that would probably never come to pass. He wasn’t a fool, after all. He knew chances were that all the lies would one day blow up in his face just like they had for Albert.  And he knew that when that happened everything would change – and not for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you who left kudos and comments on the first chapter! This story was so well-received and I feel really humbled that you liked this idea so much. I hope chapter 2 doesn't disappoint in delivering more angst, heartbreak and feels. I really enjoyed writing Crutchie's pov here. The added angst regarding Jack is a nice bonus, too ;) 
> 
> Chapter 3 will most likely be uploaded on Saturday or Sunday. It will be the final chapter but I'm currently working on the first of probably two sequels to this story (5,500 words and counting!). I'll have more infos on that when chapter 3 comes out.


	3. Race

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: alcohol abuse, mentions of child abuse, swearing

**Chapter 3: Race**

To say that Race was nervous when he climbed the ladder to the rooftop was an understatement. His hands were shaking when they reached up to take hold of the metal rungs, and not because of the cold early spring air. He still couldn’t believe how his day had gone from meeting Spot’s grandmother to Albert telling him he was his soulmate.

 _No, heartmate_ , Race corrected himself.

That one word sent shivers down his spine. It seemed so much bigger, to hold so much more meaning than the word soulmate. Race knew what it felt like when a name suddenly appeared on your skin, how your heart would flutter when you realized that you’d just met a person that could be the one for you. He’d felt that way when he first met Toothpick from Flushing, and he felt it even more fiercely when he saw Spot for the first time after the strike and the skin on his arm started to itch. Spot had looked at him with dawning realization as he raised his hand to scratch at the soft skin behind his ear – the place where Race later learned his name stood in small letters, almost hidden from the world. He remembered how happy he’d been when Spot took his hand, when they kissed for the first time, the second time, the third, the fourth, the fifth, and when he spent the first of many nights in Brooklyn.

He remembered every moment, every minute of happiness and every sad parting. He also remembered what heartbreak felt like, when things didn’t work out with Toothpick or when he never found the boy called Arthur Williams again after he bought a paper from Race one day and vanished into the crowd never to be seen again. He remembered all the good and all the bad.

But when he tried to imagine how Albert must have felt for years he came up empty. Race knew that heartmarks were different from soulmarks. The matron at the orphanage had told them in few but very clear words that people with heartmarks felt more intensely than those with soulmarks since there was only one person in the whole world for them; and while that one person was one hundred percent perfect for them, they would never get another chance at love if that person died or didn’t love them back. Back then, young as he had been, Race had only focused on the good parts. He’d even been a little envious when he found out one of the girls in the orphanage had a name written over her heart because he’d believed it made her special. Staring at the white unblemished skin over his own heart, he had realized that he would never be special like her, no matter how much he’d wanted to have someone out there that was meant for him only, too.

It was only now as he climbed up the ladder in search of his best friend that Race truly understood what having a heartmark meant, what terrible consequences it could have. As a child he hadn’t been able to comprehend the possibility of not being perfect for someone who was perfect for you. Now it was all he could think about because he was the one and only person who was absolutely perfect for Albert. He _was_ special, after all, Race realized, just not in the way he’d always imagined.

He’d never thought it would be so painful – because the truth of the matter was that Race might be perfect for Albert but according to the name on Race’s arm Albert wasn’t perfect for him. And that hurt despite the fact that Race was happy with Spot. He loved Spot, he felt complete with him. Still, he knew that it was nothing compared to how deeply Albert must feel. He’d seen the proof of that earlier when he noticed the bottle in Albert’s hand and he saw it now when he reached the top of the ladder and spotted Albert on the edge of the roof, curled up into a small ball and sobbing his heart out.

Race had never seen his best friend so unhinged and the sight made his heart tighten almost painfully when it hit him that he was the cause for it. He’d gone and spent their friendshipversary with Spot instead of Albert. It didn’t matter one bit that he’d originally planned to be back in Manhattan on time. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t meant to make Albert wait in the cold for hours. He’d been selfish, so utterly, incredibly selfish and because of that he had driven Albert over the edge – he had driven Albert to _drink_.

Race would never forgive himself for that. He of all people knew that Albert was scared of alcohol. Truly scared. More than once one of the fellas had tried to convince him to try a sip but Albert had always paled and declined, hiding away from his friends’ drunken shenanigans for the rest of the night. It was no secret that Albert’s father was a drunk, but only Race knew that he was a violent one. Albert’s father had started drinking heavily after Albert’s mother passed away to deal with his grief, and for the first time, knowing what he did now, Race truly understood why Albert avoided alcohol at all cost. It wasn’t just because he was scared he’d become violent. All this time Albert had been dealing with his own grief and his own heartbreak every day and, even though the idea of drowning his sorrows had to have been enticing, he was terrified of losing himself in drink like his father had.

And Race had gone and managed to hurt his best friend so much that Albert, in his desperation, had seen no other way out and turned to the bottle for comfort because he couldn’t bear all that pain on his own any longer. Race felt like the worst human being on Earth. He wished he’d said no to Spot this morning and just put Albert first like he should have, especially today of all days. Maybe then Albert wouldn’t sit on the freezing rooftop right now, drunk for the first time in his life and trying to stifle his violent sobs.

But Race hadn’t put Albert first and no amount of beating himself up over it would change that. He knew it wouldn’t help Albert, either, and helping Albert was Race’s number one priority right now. So he took a deep breath, gathered all his courage, and pulled himself up the rest of the way onto the rooftop. Quietly, so as not to startle his distraught friend, he said, “Hey, Albert.”

Albert flinched so violently Race instinctively stopped in his tracks. For two long seconds Albert stared at him with wide fearful eyes before he hid his face in his arms and choked out in-between sobs, “I-I’ll leave tomorrow, I promise! Just please, not tonight. Not tonight.”

Those few words completely destroyed Race. He felt tears well up in his eyes because his best friend expected him to cast him out, to send him away for something that was beyond his control, something that was supposed to be wonderful and not bring so much pain. The last thing Race wanted was for Albert to leave and just the thought of waking up one morning without Albert in the bunk beneath him cracking a joke terrified him. He might not love Albert like he loved Spot, like Albert needed and deserved to be loved, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love him in every other way possible. He loved Albert so much he couldn’t imagine his life without him.

That realization hit him so hard his breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t live his life without Albert right by his side, cracking a joke, stealing his cigar, loving him more than Race will ever hope to understand. It made him finally cross the distance that separated him from Albert. Dropping to his knees next to him on the cold, damp ground of the rooftop Race didn’t hesitate in wrapping his arms around his best friend to draw him close. The moment they touched Albert melted against him, pressing his face into Race’s chest and holding onto his shirt with the kind of desperation of someone close to drowning.

A small part of Race insisted that this should be awkward, that he shouldn’t feel comfortable holding someone who was in love him like this, but he didn’t care. Albert was the same person he’d been this morning. He’d had those feelings for Race for years and not even once acted on them – because Race’s happiness came before his own. Albert was prepared to walk away from everything he knew, his friends, his job, his home just because he thought Race would be more at ease with him gone.

In all his life no one had ever put Race first. Not Toothpick who couldn’t even be bothered to make the trip from Flushing to Manhattan for him on most days. Not Spot who had his newsies to lead, a responsibility he took very seriously, and his duty to his brothers came before everything else, Race included. It had never bothered Race, not really, because he knew he wasn’t putting Spot first, either. He might spend most of his time with him nowadays but when Spot had asked him to move into Brooklyn’s Lodging House Race had shook his head without having to think about it. He too had a duty to his brothers, as Jack’s second-in-command and as a friend, and he wasn’t ready to leave them behind forever. If he was being honest with himself he didn’t know if he’d ever be. Spot hadn’t taken it well, unable to understand why Race preferred to walk all those miles when he could live and sell in Brooklyn just as well. It had put a strain on their relationship, leaving them at an impasse because neither of them was willing to take the next step and give up their old life for the other. It was still a sore topic for them, one they tried to ignore.

And here Albert was, ready to leave everything behind because he believed it would make Race happy which was reason enough for him. It humbled Race in a way nothing ever had before. He tightened his grip on his best friend and buried his face in Albert’s hair. “I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered fiercely. “Not tonight, not tomorrow, not next week. You hear me, Albert? I’ll _never_ want you to leave.”

Albert’s breath hitched and Race felt him tremble beneath his hands. “Then tell me what to do!” he pleaded. “Tell me how to fix this, how to make it right!”

Race’s throat tightened when he heard the desperation and helplessness in Albert’s voice. “We don’t need fixing, Al,” he told him softly, blinking away tears. “We’re not broken.”

He felt Albert shake his head against his chest. “No, I ruined everything!” he cried.

“You ruined nothing,” Race insisted, running his hands up and down Albert’s back in comfort. “Al, I promise you, you ruined nothing. We’re still you and me. Race and Albert against the world, remember?” He rested one of his hands on Albert’s neck, gently caressing the soft skin behind his ear with his thumb. “The only thing that’s changed is that I know about your mark – and the only thing that changes is that, hopefully, I’ll be less of an asshole in the future.”

Albert pulled back a little to catch Race’s eyes. “How can you even stand to touch me right now when you know I … I …” he faltered, even now unable to admit how he felt about Race.

Race brought up his other hand to cup Albert’s face. When Albert leaned helplessly into the touch Race felt his heart break. “Because you’re my best friend and nothing will ever change that, you hear me, Al? Nothing.”

In a small, broken voice Albert asked, “Even though I want more than that?” He couldn’t meet Race’s eyes.

“Even then,” Race confirmed. “This isn’t going to change us, Al. Not if we don’t let it. And we won’t.” He paused, thinking back to the bottle Albert had been drinking from earlier when Race found him. “You scared me back there, you know?” he said quietly. “When I saw you drinking … I’ve never been so scared in my life before. Not even during the strike.”

“I’m sorry,” Albert mumbled.

“Hey, no, that’s not what I meant,” Race hurried to correct. “If anyone should apologize it’s me. This is my fault, not yours.” He carefully wiped away the wetness on Albert’s cheeks. “I wasn’t just scared because you were drinking – though that was unsettling as hell, don’t get me wrong, and if I never see you with another bottle of booze again in my life it would be too soon. But what really got me was the fact that I made you do that, that you were drinking because of me, because my name on your skin means that your happiness is directly linked to me. I’ve never been responsible for someone’s happiness before and it really scares me that I have that kind of power over you.”

Albert swallowed hard. “You’re responsible for Spot’s happiness,” he pointed out quietly.

Race shook his head. “It’s not the same and you know it. If things don’t work out with Spot and me it might feel like the end of the world but it won’t be. We’ll both get another chance with someone else, sooner or later. But you don’t, Al. You’re stuck with me, a self-centered idiot who sucks at being a good friend and kept you waiting in the cold for hours on our friendshipversary.”

Much to Race’s confusion, Albert offered him the first hint of a smile that evening. “But you’re also a self-centered idiot who manages to cheer me up whenever I’m sad, who gives me his jacket when it’s cold outside and who shares his cookie with me on a rainy day if I can’t afford one myself. Doesn’t sound like such a bad fella to me.”

Race huffed out a wet laugh. “You’re biased,” he teased good-naturedly. When he realized what he’d said he met Albert’s eyes a little fearfully, scared of his reaction. What if Albert wasn’t ready for this kind of light-hearted joking?

But Albert’s eyes softened and he looked at Race with so much love and adoration that it took his breath away. “I know. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he whispered.

And Race realized that despite all the pain he’d put Albert through, all the times he screwed up and hurt his best friend, Albert didn’t regret him. He never would, and that blew his mind away. “How did I get so lucky to have you in my life?” he mumbled, pulling Albert close once more. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Al?”

He felt Albert sink into the embrace. “I just wish I could be better for you,” he admitted quietly, unable to hide the pain in his voice the way he was hiding his face in Race’s jacket.

“Don’t,” Race said softly. “You’re already perfect, Al.”

Albert didn’t say anything to that. Race knew he didn’t – couldn’t – agree as long as the name on Race’s skin wasn’t his. He wouldn’t be surprised if Albert blamed himself for that and thought something had to be wrong with him because why else would he not be Race’s soulmate? It was something they would have to talk about, sooner rather than later. Albert needed to know that Race wouldn’t have his best friend any other way, wouldn’t want him to change for anyone, least of all him. But they both had a long day and Albert was beginning to lean more heavily against him so Race allowed silence to settle over them instead. Absentmindedly, he brushed his hand through the soft hair at Albert’s neck for a while, just enjoying their closeness, before a thought struck him and he pulled back a little. “Oh god, I’m sorry I didn’t ask before but is this too much? You really need to tell me if it is, Al. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You won’t,” Albert reassured him, tightening his grip just a bit before he added, “You’ve got to tell me when _I_ make _you_ uncomfortable, though.” His words made Race unbelievably sad and he pulled Albert close again. He had no idea how he never noticed before how Albert so obviously craved touch and contact but never initiated it, only ever taking what Race offered him, sometimes even pretending not to like it so no one would notice just how much he longed for it. Race couldn’t even remember the last time they hugged even though it was such a simple and easy thing to do to draw someone close and hold them in your arms for a moment. He silently vowed to rectify that. It wouldn’t hurt him to be more physically affectionate in the future and, judging from the way Albert was clinging to him right now, soaking up all the attention he was getting, he knew it would make Albert’s day if Race put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close every now and then. It was the least he could do for him.

But Race knew Albert’s biggest concern at the moment wasn’t what he himself needed. No, Albert was worrying about driving Race away with an unwanted touch, an unguarded gaze or a too-longing look. Even though those worries were completely ridiculous as far as Race was concerned he knew what Albert needed right now was reassurance, so he said, “I promise to tell you if I’m not okay with something you do.”

“Thank you,” Albert breathed, sounding relieved.

It didn’t take long before his body slowly began to relax for the first time since he let his secret slip earlier that night. One glance down from Race confirmed that Albert looked absolutely exhausted and on the verge of falling asleep, the day’s events and the alcohol in his system finally taking their toll. Gently, Race pushed him upright. “Come on, sleepyhead. It’s too cold to sleep like this. Not to mention uncomfortable.”

Albert didn’t protest when Race carefully maneuvered him towards Jack and Crutchie’s bedding but he frowned when Race lay down next to him and wrapped his arms around him. “What are you doing?”

“Cuddling with my best friend,” Race replied, giving him a cheeky grin. “It’s cold and we’ve got to stay warm _somehow_.”

Albert turned his head around to search his eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Race,” he told him, sounding ashamed.

“I know,” Race smiled, reaching up to brush some stray hair out of Albert’s eyes. “But I want to … just in case your stupid head starts to panic tonight and thinks running away from me is a good idea after all.” Albert chuckled quietly and warmth filled Race’s chest. “And it’s not like we haven’t done this before,” he added. “Remember that winter two years ago when it was so cold for so long half the city ran out of firewood and we slept two to a bunk so as not to freeze to death in our sleep?”

Albert nodded. “Best night’s sleep I ever had,” he mumbled dreamily.

Of course it would have been, Race thought sadly. He pulled up the blankets over their heads to keep out the cold wind and tightened his arms around Albert. “Hey, Al?”

“Mhm?” Albert hummed.

“How about we catch up on our friendshipversary tomorrow?” Race asked. “Just you and me at Jacobi’s. I’ll even buy you a Seltzer. How’s that sound?”

“Heavenly,” Albert sighed, already half-asleep.

“I promise I won’t keep you waiting again,” Race whispered.

Albert let out a soft, sleepy sound. “I’d wait for you until the end of time, Tonio.”

Race’s chest tightened when he heard that. He hid his face in Albert’s neck and waited until he was sure Albert was asleep before he whispered, “I wish you wouldn’t have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter. What a ride it's been. This soulmate AU has completely taken over my mind. Remember how I said in the previous chapter that I'm working on the second chapter of a sequel? Well, I've just finished the rough draft of the second chapter of the _second sequel_ XD And there's probably going to be a third sequel as well. It's kind of getting out of hand, tbh, which is why I'm going to put all the stories of this verse in a series called "Hearts and Souls", so keep on the lookout for the next installment in which Spot will finally make an appearance, everyone is angsting and Albert should not be allowed to make decisions without consulting anyone first.
> 
> I want to thank all of you again for leaving kudos and comments! You have no idea how happy your feedback makes me! I hope the third chapter doesn't disappoint. 
> 
> See you at the sequel (hopefully)!


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